


Their last journey

by Sylencia



Category: Naruto
Genre: Afterlife, M/M, Mention of Death, hashimadaholidays, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:16:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylencia/pseuds/Sylencia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their last journey but not their last meeting ..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Their last journey

**Author's Note:**

> My second entry for the Hashimadaholidays.

It felt strange, at first. It felt like nothing existed any more, like if everything was gone around him. A whole world of white nothingness. He could see it all around him, and his whole mind was searching what that place could be. He knew he was dead, he knew it, he was feeling like he was dead, just like he did, a couple of years ago but still, there was something different, like a itch he needed to scratch, like an discomfort in his body and he frowned, looking at his own hands.

The first thing he noticed was the lack of pain, despite the scratches, despite the bruises on his skin. Sure, he was dead but he never imagined it could be like that. Why was it all white around him ? The only thing he could remember was that damn Senju, looking down at him like a hurt puppy and then, nothing more. What was taking him so long, by the way ? Why wasn’t he here already ? Madara wasn’t scared of being alone but this place was making him feel uncomfortable.

He knew death and Death wasn’t like this. Death wasn’t a blank space. This was something else, something unknown and Madara knew he should stay on his guards. Was it another plan from the enemy ? From that terrible woman ? What was her name again ? His memories were blurry .. He could remember her white hair, her ability to jump from one dimension to the other. Was it one of her tricks ? Madara didn’t know what to think anymore but the lack of sensations was hinting him to calm down, that his fight was over. Yes, he was dead, but this wasn’t what he experienced, in the past.

His dream was over. Hashirama had won. He was pretty sure Hashirama would never feel like that, the Senju was so stubborn and would tell him both their dreams could have work, in some way but Madara didn’t care anymore. And that white space, all around him, so bright, so intoxicating. Why was he here ? What was it ? What if he was trapped here ? Hashirama wanted them to share cups as comrades, as brothers. And if Hashirama didn’t showed up, what was he going to do ? What if Hashirama already travelled to that other place he knew so well .. ?

What was taking him so long ?

With a deep sigh, Madara sat down, crossing his arms. This couldn’t be some trap, he knew that much. He couldn’t feel any chakra surrounding him and he was able to detect any genjutsu. This wasn’t one. By the way, why did Hashirama said “brothers” ? Since when were they brothers .. ? Madara didn’t like that. He hated this word in this context and if he had had the strength to punch the other, he would have done it. Punch him right in the face to make him remember that they weren’t brothers, they never were and never will be.

Flashes of memories, from the fight, was coming back to his mind and Madara had to close his eyes to try and ignore them. He was done with this world, with its problems. He had tried as hard as he could to make it better, following his plan, from the battle of the Valley of the End to this terrible day when he died, once for all and it was over now. He couldn’t go back, it was the only thing he knew from this place and his body was probably going to be sealed somewhere safe, so no one could ever use the Edo Tensei on him. That would be so disgusting and he hoped the annoying blond boy would make sure they wouldn’t use his body again. What was his name already ? He didn’t even remember. All he had in mind was Hashirama.

And, as he thought about his friend, he heard someone clearing his throat behind him and quickly jumped on his feet, ready to fight if he had to but he relaxed immediately when he recognized Hashirama.

“You are late.” he blamed the other, crossing his arms and glaring at the other man and Hashirama scratched the back of his head with a nervous chuckle.

“Ah, well, they took some time to free me from the Edo Tensei ..” he whispered as an excuse. “But I am here now !” he then exclaimed, excited and Madara had to push him away, already annoyed by his friend’s attitude. He hadn’t change a bit, did he ?

“Where are we ?” Madara asked, deciding to change subject now before he got angry. “What is this place ?”

Hashirama glanced around, trying to look as impassive as possible but he couldn’t fool Madara, and the Uchiha was able to read the other’s expression. Hashirama had no idea where they were either, it seemed, and even if they both died, in the past, this place was a mystery for the two of them.

Some time passed. Madara couldn’t value how much. How much time passes when the world doesn’t exist anymore for them ? How much time passes when all they can see is the infinite void ? It could have been an eternity, or just a few seconds but the words would have still be the same, in his friend’s mouth and they would have make him react just the same way.

“I’ve missed you.” Hashirama whispered, in that annoying yet so appealing tone and Madara glared at him with so much hate in the eyes that the Senju wondered if he should fear for his life. Well, he was already dead, of course but still .. He could see Madara’s eyes burning, under his bangs and he could nearly feel his chakra flare up. There was no chakra in this world but he knew the other so well, he knew Madara like the back of his hand and he knew the chill it always triggered and the excitation it brought to him and he smiled back at Madara’s reaction.

“You jerk, you sent a clone to fight me !” the Uchiha answered and Hashirama quickly raised his hands in front of him, as a shield and nervously chuckled.

“I know, I know, but I had to take care of the Juubi first !” he said, on an apologetic tone but Madara didn’t seem to accept his excuse and he punched him on the shoulder. There was no pain, there couldn’t be, they were dead after all but Hashirama still felt the sting on his shoulder, and he held his arm, grumbling.

“Don’t act like I hurt you ! We’re dead !” Madara yelled, angry now and Hashirama sighed, deeply. This was going to be a long day. Or night. Or whatever this might be, if Madara kept blaming him for trying to save the word.

“Still ..” Hashirama sighed, dropping his hand and shrugging. “I’ve missed you. A lot.” he added, after a short while and Madara rolled his eyes with a disbelieving expression.

“You didn’t. You married that Uzumaki woman. You had children.” he pointed out but Hashirama wasn’t going to let the other take him to that ground.

“Yes, I did. I married a woman and I had children and grandchildren, one you nearly killed, by the way.” the Senju retorted, pointing at Madara. “I had a whole life to live after your death, after you forced me to kill you and I don’t regret it but it doesn’t take away the meaning of my words. I’ve missed you, for years, until my death. I’ve missed my best friend, your presence, your smile, your look. I’ve missed going up the cliff with you and looking at Konoha, our village.”

“Oh” Madara interrupted the other. “So now, it’s our village? Not yours anymore ?” he growled and Hashirama nearly face palmed as he wondered how long this conversation was going to take. Madara always was so stubborn.

“Don’t you think it is time for us to forget about our past mistakes ? We’ve done enough, Madara. No more fighting, no more blaming. All I want is for us to walk through the after-world as brothers.”

But, that world triggered another violent reaction from Madara and he kicked Hashirama in the face, this time, making him fall on his butt, clueless. What did he do wrong, this time ? Why the hell Madara looked so angry after him ? All he wanted was to stop the fighting, he wanted them to go back to what they used to be. Why was Madara so .. no, he wasn’t angry. Oh, no, he had been so stupid, Hashirama thought, as he looked at Madara’s expression with more attention. This wasn’t Madara’s angry face. He was hurt.

“You keep using that word as if nothing happened.” Madara spat, looking down at the other. “You, who never felt shame about it, couldn’t even admit what we were in the past !”

His memories were still fuzzy but those were feelings and images Hashirama could never forget. Oh, no, this was inscribed in his memory until the end of times and now, he knew why Madara looked like that. It had been innocent, to him, they were brother before anything else, they trained as brothers and fought side by side as brothers, when they had to protect Konoha, but they always were so much more, weren’t they ?

Hashirama could remember well the day they first did it. He could remember those confusing feelings and how strange it had felt, at first and the pain, so much pain ! But it couldn’t have happened in any other way. It was their first time, their first touch and it had been perfect.

He wasn’t thinking about the sex. No, of course, this was another matter and with Madara underneath him, it was just like another battle. No, what he had in mind was their first kiss, the first time they actually expressed their shared feelings in a simple and innocent kiss.

-

Hashirama would never forget this day. Winter days were so short, the night was coming so quickly and a snow storm had covered Konoha in a white coat. Hashirama had been watching over the village for a couple of hours already, the streets of Konoha only lit up by some candles and torches. He could follow the guards path inside the walls of the villages and discern each street, each district. This night, he had felt the pride of their creation. Never before a village of shinobi seemed so peaceful and he knew he had done the right choice while creating it.

“What are you doing?”. Madara’s voice had made him jump. No shinobi should ever be taken by surprise, and certainly not in their village but Madara always was the most silent, the most discreet, even in Konoha. Hashirama never understood why his friend was being so paranoid, they were safe here, but he knew well that habits were hard to lose and Madara was an amazing shinobi. Madara would never let his guards down, and never let someone slip behind his back.

“Just watching over the village.” the Senju had casually answered, going back at his observation as his friend came to stand beside him.

“And how long have you been doing so ?”

It was an unknown fact that Madara could be really curious sometimes. On strange subjects, Hashirama might add, if asked about it but he knew he didn’t have to answer, Madara already knew. The Uchiha was the best shinobi of the world, he already noticed, in one glance, how soaked his clothes were because of the snow, the light shiver making his body tremble, the white steam escaping his blueish lips at each and every one of his breaths. Madara didn’t have to ask, the answer was obvious, it had been some time already but yet, he did spoke and it made Hashirama wonder why. Was Madara in a talkative mood, tonight ?

“I’m always looking over the village, and protecting it.” Hashirama thought it would be nice to try and look intellectual and wise. “Just like you do too, sometimes. Just like we promised.”

The Uchiha snorted, mocking his answer but he didn’t speak again and turned his face toward the village, tracing each street with his eyes, as dark as endless pits and his black hair covering half his face. Sometimes, Hashirama wanted to push them back, to be able to look at Madara’s whole face for once but those thoughts were so weird, and so intimate .. Why was he feeling intimate with Madara ?

But, then again, he couldn’t ignore the tension that had been building between them since they were living in the same village. He couldn’t ignore the excitation he was feeling, when he was seeing his friend. He had felt it before, when they met on the battlefield but he always thought it was the chill before the battle, to finally meet with someone his rank and be able to fight with all he had but .. To feel it in a peaceful encounter with Madara meant something else, didn’t it ? And the smile that could never leave his face, when he was watching Madara, and the ache in his heart when Madara was talking to him. Sometimes he wondered if Madara felt the same, sometimes, he asked himself if it even was normal to feel like that and if not, what was wrong with him.

However, tonight, as he was sensing it again, that .. attraction toward Madara, the Senju stopped feeling guilty. Madara meant a lot to him, he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

And that’s why he turned to Madara, waited for the other to stare at him with a frown, asking himself why the Senju was acting so strange, to kiss him.

It didn’t last long. As soon as his frozen lips met with Madara’s burning one, he felt like an idiot and stepped back with wide eyes, realizing what he had done, before he quickly mumbled an apology and left the cliff as swiftly as possible, nearly running back to his home.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Hashirama kept telling himself, hitting his own head with both hands and pacing around his bedroom. How could he do something so stupid ? Why was he being so stupid when everything worked so well between them ? They were at peace, they had a village, tensions were beginning to fade between their clan and they even received messages from other leaders, asking them if they could join the village, the alliance. And now ? Now, he ruined it all with his non-sense.

Kissing Madara. Actually kissing Uchiha Madara-sama ! What kind of idea was that ? Why would he act so impulsively when they finally achieved their life-long dream ?

Hashirama didn’t sleep much, that night. Well, he didn’t sleep at all, replaying again and again that terrible mistake he had done, and trying to imagine Madara’s reaction, for the next time they were to meet each other and trying to come up with an excuse. Would it be enough if he said he had been sick and didn’t know what he was doing ? Or he could say he had been manipulated by an enemy (but then again, why would an enemy want to see him kiss Madara ?). Or, he could hide in his room and never come out again and, as it was the best solution he found, he followed it without a second thought and finally went to sleep.

When he woke up, it was night-time again and Hashirama was feeling so sore. Why did his chest feel so heavy ? And his head .. It was as if someone was compressing it as hard as possible, and he was trembling, shaking under his covers, he was feeling so hot, sweating so much but when he tried to cool himself by pushing the covers away, it felt like he didn’t even have the strength to do so. Why was someone attacking him now ? No, no, this wasn’t an unknown feeling. Hashirama never was sick, since his childhood but now he was, because of .. well, him being stupid. He should have never spend all this time, his feet in the snow and looking over the village without a proper coat. He should have never gone to bed in his cold and wet clothes. And now, he was sick. So sick that cold water was currently running down his forehead.

No, wait, that wasn’t normal and Hashirama opened his eyes, and frowned, trying to focus, to make his vision less blurry, only to recognize Madara’s face, way to close to his. The Uchiha looked concerned. Concerned ! Even in battle, he never showed such emotion and the Senju never knew Madara’s face could actually express such a feeling. (But he learnt, later, that Madara’s face was actually able to show many things, if one knew how to look.) Hashirama’s first reflex was to try and sit up but he was forcefully pinned on the futon again.

“Idiot.” the Uchiha growled, as a threat. “Do not move.”

It wasn’t like Hashirama never imagined this. He did, shamefully, during lonely nights but Madara never looked so pissed. The Uchiha always seemed so happy and submissive and .. Well, maybe it wasn’t the perfect time to think about this when Madara looked like he was going to kill him. Why would he, firstly ? He could spend the whole day in his bed, if he wanted to, and even get sick, it wasn’t Madara’s concern. Why was he here ? Why was he sitting next to his bed and taking off the cloth from his forehead to soak it in cold water again and place it back on his face. It felt so good, by the way but still, it didn’t answer to his questions.

Why would Madara care ? Wasn’t he pissed at him because of what happened ? Because of the kissing incident ?

Hashirama tried to move again, absolutely not because he didn’t have the courage to face Madara, no, not at all (who was he trying to fool ?) but a death glare froze him on the spot and he gave up, quite easily to be honest.

“Now tell me, are you insane, or just plain stupid ?” Madara asked, placing his freezing hands on his face as if he was trying to measure his body heat and Hashirama crossed his arms, under the covers and looked away.

“I am fine.” he answered with a huff but it seemed the Uchiha didn’t like it because he rolled his eyes, turning away to go back to whatever he was doing and Hashirama allowed himself to finally take a good look at the other man.

Madara looked .. exhausted. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual and by the stiff way he was moving, he had been in an uncomfortable position for quite a long time already. He had attached his hair, so it didn’t go in his way, as well as his sleeves, with a ribbon and he was writing on a scroll. Hashirama always admired Madara’s handwriting. It was always so perfect, so neat and he always wondered where the other learned to write so well. Did he have some kind of master ? He, as a Senju, was taught by his father and only actually developed his writing after he became leader, with the help of an old woman. What was Madara’s story about his writing skills ? Did he use his sharingan on some old wise man ?

His mind was wandering around again and Hashirama closed his eyes for a couple of seconds before he resumed his observation and noticed Madara’s bare feet. How long had he been here ? He asked himself. How long had the other taken care of him ?

This question was stuck in Hashirama’s mind when, feeling his stare, Madara glanced at him with an annoyed expression and carefully placed the brush down.

“You weren’t at the meeting, this morning.” he pointed out. “The one about the village’s security and it made me think something was wrong, so I came here, thinking I’d find you beheaded but in the end, you were shivering in your bed and had a high fever.” he explained the Senju with a soft voice. So, his friend had taken care of him for the whole day ?

“You’re a pain to deal with.” Madara added after a pause and Hashirama felt like a dagger was now stabbing him. Couldn’t he be less cruel, sometimes ? “I had to undress you because of the wet clothes and you were freezing to death.”

Glancing away, Hashirama swallowed hard. Not that he minded Madara undressing him, it probably saved him from a lot of trouble but .. he really was feeling stupid now. He went to bed, yesterday night, without thinking, without changing his clothes and it made him sick and Madara had to watch over him, as if he was some kind of child. And between that and the stupid kiss he stole from the other, the previous night, he was like the King. The King of Idiocy.

“I’ll warm up some soup for you.” Madara suddenly said, in a more gentle tone and Hashirama smiled up at him, as a thanking but it didn’t last. “You’d better not try to move or I’ll have clones forcing you down, if I have to.”

Hashirama sighed but he agreed, thanking his friend. Madara had no obligation to take care of him like that, Tobirama could have done it, for sure, he could have ask anyone but he actually did it himself and it was proving the Senju that he made the right choice with this alliance. Madara wasn’t as bad as people might think he was and he could be trusted. And, for sure, he must have forget about the kiss because he didn’t seem embarrassed or angry at him.

The Senju must had thought too quickly, because the Uchiha grabbed his chin quite hard and forced him to turn his head to him again, only to press his lips against his. Just like the first time, it didn’t last long and Hashirama didn’t know if he was living it or only imagining it because of the fever. Madara had seemed so .. well, like he always was, distant and annoyed but now, he could feel those burning lips again and he was going to finally share an actual kiss with Madara but it was already too late. The Uchiha moved away, with that bored look in the eyes and left the room, leaving him as puzzled as never before.

-

“Alright” Hashirama sighed, rubbing his forehead and glancing at his friend with a soft smile. “Let’s say, “as lovers” then ..” he said, nodding his head, a happy gleam in the eyes and the Uchiha seemed to calm down, just for a bit.

But it didn’t last and Madara looked up at him again with a frown but Hashirama quickly corrected himself, shaking his hands in front of him. “Okay, I get it. There’s no “Let’s say”.” the Senju quickly corrected himself. “We were lovers. We still are lovers.” he whispered, hoping his current state would prevent any blushing and Madara looked satisfied for a moment, before he looked around.

“You shouldn’t have killed me, if you didn’t want to miss me.” he pointed out, in a calm tone but Hashirama could feel the blame in it and he dropped his arms, lips parted while he was trying to find what to answer.

“You gave up on our dream. You wanted to attack the village. I couldn’t let you hurt those people.” the Senju said and Madara looked away, but didn’t answer. Maybe it was best if he didn’t. He wasn’t giving up, now he knew he had all the time in the world to blame the Senju for everything bad that had happened; and Hashirama was going to hear about Tobirama and the invention of the Edo Tensei for quite a long time. But maybe it was time they stopped the fighting, just like Hashirama said. They were dead, after all, fighting was useless now, wasn’t it ?

“What are we supposed to do now ?” Madara asked, sitting on what could be called the ground, even if it was just as brightly white as the rest of their surroundings and Hashirama concentrated for a couple of seconds but nothing happened. There was no chakra at all in his body or at least, he didn’t have the faculty to use it anymore. Did he only have a body ? He knew the Edo Tensei only invoked a shibobi’s chakra, or something of the sort, he didn’t know the details. (He never wanted to ask Tobirama about the details.) But he couldn’t use his chakra anymore in any cases and he just gave up trying, giving a tired huff as he glanced at Madara.

“I don’t know.” he whispered. “But there’s something I’ve been wanting to do since I saw you, back on the battlefield.” he stated, going to sit beside his friend and he waited for Madara to look at him, to kiss him.

That was something he could feel. Even with how strange it might sound, he could feel Madara’s lips pressing against his and the soft burning and how good and right it felt. He had missed the other so much, he had missed them for years, even while he was married. There always was that craving for Madara, that precise need and nobody ever was able to fulfill it. Hashirama couldn’t explain why, he couldn’t even explain how he felt for Madara, how strong and unique their link was, and the Senju remembered well enough how hard it had been for them to begin with. The first kisses had been so easy, so soft and innocent, but when they started to see each other more intimately, the troubles began with the never-ending struggle. Madara wasn’t easy to live with. But they managed and despite all those difficulties, Hashirama never was as happy in his life as the precious moments he spent with Madara and he never found someone like him ever again (Not that he ever wanted to replace Madara …).

And to be here, with the other, with the person he had loved so much and still loved to the death, literally, it was better than any other feeling in the world and he would never trade his place. Even if they were to stay here, in that endless white space, Hashirama would never be more happy. As long as he was with Madara, everything was perfect.

But doubts were troubling Madara’s heart and he couldn’t ignore the soft ache inside him. He didn’t care that Hashirama killed him in the past, now he accepted his lover’s point of view and he wasn’t going to fight it back again, there was no purpose in that. And he wasn’t going to complain about the situation either. Death was just another path and he would walk it happily if Hashirama was with him.

And this was the doubt rotting his thoughts, spreading around like an eternal fire and Madara couldn’t get rid of it. He could live and die without Hashirama, he did it already and never regretted it; or that’s what he tried to convince himself, in the past but .. Not this time. Not when they could reunite as they used to be. Not when Hashirama’s hand was in his hair, holding him so they never stopped kissing.

However, the Uchiha still pushed the other away, with a frown. It couldn’t be so easy. How could Hashirama forget so easily all the things that happened since the day he tried to attack Konoha with the help of the Kyuubi ? How could he accept him again in his life, and his death, when they fought, just a couple of hours before ?

Hashirama seemed to understand the nature of his doubts because he came closer, placing a arm around Madara’s back and the chin on his shoulder. “Don’t you remember ? The day we were coming back from the meeting with the daimyo ..” But Madara’s look made him stop and Hashirama smiled, knowing perfectly that Madara remembered.

-

Madara could have never forgotten this day. It had been a long night of negotiations with the Daimyo, the lord of the land wanted to make sure the village and its shinobis were going to work his way, on his name and not become too independent. They couldn’t proclaim themselves protector of the country if they didn’t work for them, after all but Madara had clearly told him that they weren’t his pet to play with, and that they’d stay independent and would never accept to follow the stupid orders of a gluttonous man in robes. Hashirama had been surprised with Madara’s negotiation’s skills but it did work and the Daimyo accepted their conditions quite easily, after that. Hashirama always suspected Madara to have threatened him, somehow or manipulated him, during the night but he preferred not to ask about it. They had their contract, and it was all that counted.

For a long moment, during their trip back to Konoha, Madara hadn’t stop thinking about what they should do now for their village, what they should develop. Maybe they could open their doors to ambulant vendors to settle in ? Those vendors always had so many contacts in the whole country, contacts that could then provide them food and all they might need before they became self-sufficient. Or, maybe, until a certain point. He knew they couldn’t produce enough food for the whole village, even with the help of shinobi techniques. Growing wheat needed time, it wasn’t something they could rush.

Madara still had no idea what happened. But he had been so lost in his thoughts while walking back to Konoha that he wasn’t able to detect the attack and the first blow hurt him. He was stabbed by a kunai in the belly and when, with his sharingan burning in his eyes, he looked around and realized they were surrounded by several shinobi teams, Madara groaned. Hashirama was protecting him, in a battle stance and kunais in his hands, ready to defend the two of them if Madara couldn’t fight anymore and two shinobis were already lying on the ground, dead.

“Can you fight ?” he asked softly and the Uchiha looked up at him with so much will that Hashirama didn’t need an answer and they fought against those shinobis and they were able to save their life but Madara, because of his injuries, wasn’t in such a good state and Hashirama had to help him walk until they found a safe cave, in the woods and he started to tend his friend’s injuries as soon as possible. It wasn’t that bad, Hashirama had seen worse on the battlefield but he was still really concerned about Madara. What the hell happened ? He should have been able to feel those shinobis miles away already, and a child could have dodge the first attack. How the hell was such a terrible fight even able to touch him ?

“What happened, Madara ?” the Senju inquired but Madara groaned, slapping his healing palm away and pushing a hand on his injury, as if he could stop the bleeding so easily. “Madara, please, let me take care of it, it’ll be quick.”

“I don’t need you. I didn’t need you to protect me. You’re not better than me.” Madara growled, his voice deep with all the spit he was holding against the other and glaring up as him as if saving his life was the worst idea at the moment.

“But ..” Hashirama tried to defend himself. However, Madara wasn’t in the mood of hearing talk just yet and he turned away, taking care of his injury himself; under the Senju’s watch. It wasn’t surprising that Madara’s body seemed so beaten all the time if his only way to take care of an injury was to apply a red-hot kunai on the wound and hope it would close it up. But he could understand the scars, now. But Madara didn’t even look at him for hours and Hashirama was forced to grin and bear it until the Uchiha seemed to relax.

It had been only a couple of days since that kiss, in his bedroom. Only a few days had passed and they had kissed some other times and it always felt so amazing but as time passed, Hashirama realised how insecure Madara could feel about a lot of things. He could show himself as the greatest shinobi of his clan, and it even was easy to him because he had done it all his life, but when it came to his feelings, in particular, he sometimes didn’t know how to act and the Senju realized that today was one of those times. Because, it was the first time he had shown weakness during a battle to his friend and Madara had no idea how to handle all the raging feelings inside him now.

First, there was the anger. Because he was so distracted he didn’t even noticed the attacked before he was wounded, and Hashirama had seemed so protective. He, above anyone else should know he could fight, even if he was hurt, even if he was outnumbered. Why would he act so recklessly and make a show of his weaknesses ?

Then, there was the annoyed feeling he always had when he was with the Senju. Hashirama always triggered it, ever since they met as children. He always acted so strangely, always wanted to help everybody and it was hitting on Madara’s nerves way too much sometimes.

And, finally, Madara was feeling .. strange. He hated to admit it, or even to show it but since that damn day, since they started to kiss, his body was sometimes reacting in a way he didn’t like, and he couldn’t control and it was so infuriating that he just wanted to blame Hashirama for it. It was all Hashirama’s fault.

What was he supposed to do now ? His wound was closed, he could feel the burning on the blade through his whole body and Hashirama seemed to wait for some kind of reaction from him, when all he wanted was to go back home and have some rest. He was exhausted from the negotiations and, now, from the fight ..

“What do you want ?” he barked at the other when he noticed Hashirama’s not so discrete glances.

“Ah, well ..” Hashirama smiled. “There was something I wanted to tell you the other day ..”

“What is it ?” Madara asked, as harshly as before.

Hashirama took in a deep breath, as if what he was going to say was either really important, or really stupid, or both before he brightly smiled. “Those kisses we sometimes exchange aren’t just a game, for me.” he nodded and he looked so proud of himself but Madara was just as confused as before. Of course it wasn’t a game. He’d kill Hashirama if the other thought it was one.

“That was plain stupid.” Madara stated in a groan, turning away again as he was going to stand up so they could go back to their journey but it seemed Hashirama wasn’t done just yet.

“I will stay with you. I will endure you, in the good and the bad days. Even during the days you’ll hate me and want me dead, I’ll still care for you and love you. It is a promise. My promise to you.”

Of course, Hashirama received no answer and Madara rolled his eyes as he thought about how stupid it all was. It had been right about it, the damn Senju couldn’t be serious at all. Why would he promise something like that ? They were shinobis, they shouldn’t have those feelings. The first rule they all were taught as children was to always ignore emotions. Emotions were bad, emotions were a pulling you back, making you weak. Madara wasn’t weak. He wasn’t going to allow any weakness.

But when Hashirama kissed him, before they left the cave to resume their journey back to Konoha, the Uchiha didn’t resist. He didn’t close his eyes, he never did but part of him tried to get closer to the other, just enough for him to feel Hashirama’s body heat before they left again. And even if he never believed in Hashirama’s words, he never forgot them again.

Madara gave a huff, trying to get out of Hashirama’s suffocating grasp and the Senju sighed softly but he only let go of Madara and stayed by his side, in silence. Madara needed time, more than anyone else and he had thought that enough time had passed already. How long had it been since Konoha’s founding ? He didn’t even know anymore, time passed so quickly, yet so slowly when you’re dead and Hashirama’s last memories were so blurry, so strange. But those concerning his friend always were totally clear. Madara was his anchor to reality and he hoped, he really hoped they could stay together in the afterlife.

As he felt Madara lean against him, Hashirama didn’t move. He wasn’t going to hug Madara just yet, he didn’t want to see him push him away once again but he did nuzzled the other’s neck and smiled softly, as Madara dared to close his eyes. Slowly, he moved a hand to rest on it, behind Madara’s back and the Senju bit his lip as Madara’s fingers touched his. He didn’t even care if they had to stay here, in this strange world, as long as he was with Madara. And the Uchiha didn’t care either. For the first time since those years when they were lovers, they were at peace again and the Senju wanted this moment to last forever.

“I never imagine you could keep a promise for so long.” Madara suddenly murmured and his tone sounded so soft, so tender that Hashirama had a hard time believing his friend actually said something like that but he wasn’t going to complain. And when Madara’s hands caressed his cheek to make him turn his head, and when Madara’s lips found his for a passionate kiss, Hashirama thought he could happily died now. Before he remembered he already was dead.

Nether of them realized what happened next. They were so deep in their feelings, deep in the sweetness of the moment. It didn’t matter if they ended up in Heaven, or in Hell, as long as they were together. They both always knew they’d be able to meet with their brothers again, in the afterlife and catch up those years the war stole from them. They’d see again those shinobi who died under their command, because of wars they never wanted to fight. They’d probably meet with their father they hated so much back then, and both Madara and Hashirama couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of reaction they could have if they were able to see what they have become. Clan leaders, peacemakers, warmongers, enemies, friends, saviour of the world, destroyer of the dreams.

Lovers.


End file.
